


Just Another Day

by bikuai



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen, reader's gender not mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikuai/pseuds/bikuai
Summary: Just another day without you.
Relationships: Shaga | Drayden/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> Huh. I’ve never written for a Pokémon character before.
> 
> I really like Drayden’s design though. Strong Gentleman™

It has been a long day.

You sit alone on a bench at the edge of Opelucid City. The sun sets at your back, casting a shadow as dark as your mood onto the concrete in front of you. If you squint hard enough, your silhouette almost looks like your Sylveon. The same Sylveon that Team Plasma had stolen from you this afternoon, along with the rest of your team. The empty backpack lying at your feet was evidence enough of your loss.

You suddenly cry out in frustration, ripping the pink and blue bow from your head. It flutters harmlessly to the ground as you sob and sniffle into your hands. The companions you’ve raised and trained with love had been taken from you. You hadn’t been strong enough to protect them. In your mind, you could still hear their cries as the Plasma grunts dragged them off to who knows where.

To make things worse, you had received an urgent call from Lumiose City this morning. Your status as a visiting scholar in Unova was being terminated due to the growing presence of criminal activity.

You suppose now that it’s too little too late to take such action, but you haven’t bothered to call with the news yet. It hurts too much, acknowledging that you may never see your beloved Pokémon again.

It’s almost too fitting that you sit at the very limit of the city of past and future. As beautiful as it stood, the town didn’t sparkle as brightly knowing that you would soon leave it, your Pokémon, and all the wonderful people you had met. It’s almost too much to bear; you try to wipe your eyes, but the tears keep falling. 

You’re so preoccupied with the rush of sadness pouring out of you that you don’t notice the quiet but surefooted steps approaching your bench.

He doesn’t speak as he kneels to pick up your discarded bow then takes a seat to your right.

You lower your hands from your tear-stained face, and a gasp leaves you when you realize it’s Drayden. Words evade you, so just gape at him as he dusts off the ribbon and pins it in your hair. His right hand lingers by your cheek, brushing away stray teardrops.

It always amazes you that the dragon master can be so gentle, knowing from experience how fierce he is in battle. But in this moment, you cannot doubt his care for you. Worry torments his golden eyes as his free hand reaches for yours.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he finally speaks. “What has happened, my love?”

The term of endearment warms your heart, though your voice still cracks when you attempt to answer. “My Pokémon,” you start, “they were stolen from me by Team Plasma.”

A flicker of surprise passes over Drayden’s face. You’re no pushover in battle, that much he knows; as such, he never would have expected you to fall victim to Team Plasma’s tricks.

You can practically see the question in eyes, so you answer it before he can ask. “It took four of their grunts, all of them with Poison-types. They overwhelmed me. Seems like these criminals can’t even be bothered to fight fair.” You sigh and turn your body to face Drayden. He looks concerned, with barely restrained anger beneath the surface. The light of the setting sun casts harsh shadows on the plains of his face.

His furrowed brow, his clenched jaw, and the glint of fury in his eyes spoke a promise to you. A promise that would be kept, no matter the cost.

“I’ll help you get your Pokémon back. Team Plasma will  _ not _ get away with this,” he says, voice low.

“But it seems like they will. I only have a week before my flight back to Kalos. The program has been cut short due to the rise of violent crime in Unova. Ironic, right?” You laugh, but there is no humor in it.

“Then we must act fast; you can’t leave without your Pokémon.” He takes both your hands in his firm grip. “I swear to you: I will not rest until you are reunited with them.”

The determination in his gaze frightens you, and you break eye contact to look at your shadow again. You can almost imagine your Sylveon staring back at you, eyes bright with curiosity. The thought causes a sob to rise in your chest, and fresh tears drip down your cheeks.

“Drayden, I—” you swallow the lump in your throat and try again. “Thank you, for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Your voice is practically a whisper, but he listens intently to every word.

Before you know it, his arms are around you and his lips press themselves to your temple. You reciprocate his affection the best you can; it is only now that you realize how awkward it is to hug while sitting on a bench. Drayden notices as well and laughs as you try to maneuver your arms around his. For the first time today, you truly smile.

After a long moment in your arms, Drayden moves to stand. “We should get home; there is much to do tomorrow, and I can tell you need some rest.”

You pick up your empty backpack and toss it over your shoulder as you stand. Linking hands, the two of you begin the short walk to his townhouse. The sun sets at your back, the lingering light filling you with warmth, but you can’t help but still feel unnerved.

You’ve scarcely taken two steps when the realization hits you. You halt and turn to face Drayden.

“Wait a second! How exactly do we plan on getting my Pokémon back?” You ask, surprised it took you this long to wonder about this.

“It’s quite straightforward: we will infiltrate their base and save all the stolen Pokémon,” he replies calmly. You gape at him, but he pretends not to notice your shock. “I’ve already been working with some very skilled trainers to plan this operation. For the sake of all Unova, we will not fail.”

“But there’s no way it can be that easy!” You point out.

He smiles. “I never said it would be easy. Be that as it may, Haxorus  _ has _ been itching for a strong challenger recently, so I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

He interlaces his fingers with yours and begins walking again. You follow while your hand swings his, establishing a lilting rhythm. Sensing your lingering skepticism, Drayden reassures you: “Have faith my love; we’ve planned everything meticulously. Iris and I will lead the assault while Hugh, Rosa, and Nate rescue the captured Pokémon. You can come along too, if you’d like.”

“Oh really?” You laugh. “And what part will I play in this heist? Damsel in distress?”

“Of course not,” he replies, giving your hand a squeeze. “I know there are not many fairy types native to Unova, but I’d be more than willing to let you borrow my Altaria.”

You hum as you mull it over. Your own Altaria had been taken along with the rest of your team, but its mega stone was still somewhere at the bottom of your bag. 

“Maybe,” you say, finally. Although you doubt his Altaria knows any fairy type moves, it would be nice to try a more...draconic approach to battling. You’re a fairy tale trainer through and through, yet you have to admit that the dragon master has had quite an influence on your battling style.

Drayden squeezes your hand again. “Whatever you decide, I will think no less of you.”

“I know, and I love you for it,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

When you reach home, you hurry up to his room and all but collapse into his bed. The soft sheets have you out like a light in minutes. Drayden chuckles at the sight of you splayed on the bed, fully dressed and face plastered to one of his pillows. He wakes you for just long enough to change you into a nightie then tucks you in. You murmur some words of thanks before rolling over and curling up in the sheets.

Drayden still has other things to attend to—his work as mayor never ends—so he leans down and kisses you one last time. The feel of his whiskers against your lips sends tingles down your spine, and for a moment, you deepen the kiss.

Time stops as your lips move against his. All the gratitude, trust, and love you couldn’t communicate with words is conveyed by fleeting touches and soft gasps between kisses. You manage to slip your fingers under his suspenders to tug him closer, and he obliges, just for a moment.

He pulls away first, running a gloved hand through his hair. His face is flushed and he doesn’t meet your eyes as he stands from the bed.

“I, uh, have some paperwork to finish then I’ll probably make dinner.” He pauses in the doorway. “Unless you want to order something...” He suggests over his shoulder.

A breathless laugh leaves you. You’d kill for a pizza right now.

“The usual?” You ask.

“That would be great, love.”

You smile to yourself as you place the order.

Maybe this day isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
